Moonbroch
by redandyellowmarshandmellow
Summary: Alone and destitue after the ending of the First Wizarding War Remus Lupin finds himself in Cornwall where a chance encounter with a beauty reveals beasts...
1. A Dogs Life

**Disclaimer: If you recognise it's not mine.**

**Authors Note – I am a rotten foreshadower. If you notice something which gives you a hint about who our OC is then let me know! I feel I've been super obvious in this chapter but one woman's obvious is another persons 'Huh?' *_*.**

The house had once belonged to an elderly Muggle woman but since her death it had remained vacant, standing alone in the emptiness of the surrounding moorland. Her son had long since moved to the big city leaving behind the house which he had called home. The garden which had once been lush and cultivated was now overgrown with aggressive weeds and thick, heavily armoured brambles. A family of foxes had made their home within the cover of the thorny and twisted barricade but tonight they stayed hidden in their underground den; nestled close together and laying as flat to the earth as possible. Even the birds remained silent in the trees, it was as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for an inevitability to come to pass. The house had a sadness to it, it longed to be loved and to love in return. It seemed to scream out for a family to take notice of it, to invest their time and money to return it to its former glory – to become a place where memories were made once again and laughter filled the halls.

However, despite the outwardly desolate and ramshackle appearance Foxglove Cottage's interior still held a sliver of the warmth which once filled its heart. The walls of the living room desperately clung to the cheery pastel pink rose pattern wallpaper, it had slowly begun to peel away in some places and there was a long torn shred hanging just below the picture which dominated the fireplace. The previous owner had clearly had an artistic flair as numerous painting adorned the walls of the cottage depicting various Cornish scenes – a sunset here, a flock of sheep grazing peacefully there but the largest and most detailed painting was hung in pride of place on that pink wall. Exquisite teal, blue, and green brushstrokes had given the painted sea an almost dreamlike quality but clearly, the most time had been spent on the seal. It's large, rich brown eyes staring out from the canvas were almost too realistic.

The scratching of a quill stilled as the young man rubbed the long, white feather underneath his chin. The softness gently tickled the sensitive skin causing a faint rasping noise as it rubbed the stubble which was just starting to grow but he didn't notice. His mind was far away, lost in the memories which overwhelmed his senses... Pumpkins floating in the air, traditionally macabre faces crudely carved into their orange flesh, the fatness of the pumpkins offset by the tall, ivory candles which floated next to them. The burning flame flickering to the dance of a breeze which wasn't there. A cloudless, inky black sky glittering above the heads of chatting children, tiny silvery pinprick stars sparkled like thousands of glittering eyes and above it all the curve of a quarter moon...

A sudden crash brought the young man back from the trip down the twisting streets of memory lane. He looked up from the parchment where he had been scribbling, gripping something in the pocket of the long knitted brown cardigan. It was far too big for his thin, lanky frame and it hung loosely from the shoulders but it had been a present from his mother after a particularly fruitful foray into the world of knitting. He hadn't the heart to tell her at the time that there was no way in this lifetime nor the next that it was going to fit. Deep chocolate brown eyes flicked from side to side as he listened carefully to the rustling noises coming from the kitchen. Standing he shifted around the wooden table where he had been sat, careful not to make a sound as he slowly crept towards the kitchen. The hand which had been buried in the pocket was now extended revealing a long wand that he held aloft, peering around the corner, the sight which lay before him caused his heart to momentarily skip a beat. The kitchen door was swinging on its hinges as the howling wind and rain rushed into the cottage's small kitchen. A large canine shape could be vaguely made out in the gloom.

'Lumos' he whispered. Curiosity finally getting the of the young werewolf. A beam of silvery white light streamed from the wand, illuminating the kitchen and revealing what lay out there in the dark.

The dog lifted its head from the bin which it had tipped over, the animal was huge and black and for a brief moment he felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. It turned its humongous body around and came trotting over to where the young, brown-haired man stood. Bumping his empty hand with its nose and wagging its long, thick black tail. He sighed and ruffled the dog's wet ears affectionately causing a tag to clink against the collar. Reaching down he took the cold tag in his hand, 'Faye' was engraved in thick black writing.

'Well Faye looks like you're staying here for the night' he mumbled. Walking around the huge animal to shut the kitchen door. 


	2. Tea and Scones

**Disclaimer: All I own is an extensive dog collar collection.**

**Authors note: I'm writing this in a beach cafe in Cornwall! How cool is that?! Since this is loosely based on Beauty and the Beast I couldn't resist slipping in a few well-known quotes. Sorry for being MIA – life kicked me in the... well, you know! **

He didn't want to wake up. He was safe, warm, and pain-free in a dreamless and deep sleep. It had wrapped itself around him like the fuzzy and comforting blanket his mother had engulfed him in as a child after the Full Moon. Yet, the young and war-weary werewolf stirred fitfully as reality forcefully dragged its exhausted victim out of the soothing darkness. He so desperately didn't want to wake up. Not just yet. A dreamless sleep was an unusually peaceful respite for the bruised and battered survivor of the First Wizarding War; normally his dreams were filled with the screams and bloodshed as the horrors of the battlefield seeped into the nights. War, it seemed, left far more than physical scars on those lucky enough to escape its clutches.

A rough pink tongue slurped its way up the young man's face leaving a trail of hot and rancid salvia which clung in huge wet globes to his cheek. Remus's eyes shot open, wincing slightly at the shaft of sunlight which had broken through the thick and heavy curtains, falling across the tired werewolf's face. He groaned, rubbing a rough hand across his face, nose wrinkling with disgust as his fingers found the residue of Faye the dog's affections. The monstrous animal panted heavily, its huge pink tongue lolled from the gaping mouth which was split open in an almost sardonic grin. Every rasping breath the giant dog took sent a splattering of frothy white drool to the floor. In the early morning sunlight the animal's eyes had an eerie red gleam to them as if there was something other than mortal canine had been mixed in with its pedigree.

'You're disgusting' he croaked.

Faye cocked her humongous head to the side at the sound of Remus's voice causing yet more drool to be sent in a spray onto the already partially soaked floral rug. The animal's thick tail thumped rhythmically against the dingy carpet sending a bouquet of dust flying into the air where it danced and twirled in the small stream of sunlight which had managed to battle its way through the heavy moth eaten curtains.

'Come on. Lets get you home.'

A simple return to owner spell had proven particularly helpful in finding the home of the giant black dog and in a bizarre stroke of luck, one which Remus was not used to, the animal belonged to a witch who happened to own a ramshackle cafe known as The Rock Pool which overlooked a small but beautiful cove.

'You see deary, she's not all dog, there's a little of old black Shuck in there somewhere. Makes her a terribly wonderer' Mrs Farthing chuckled, a deep hearty sound which rumbled up from inside her chest and spilled over her lips.

She was a stout woman with a kind and open face who seemed overly fond of the colour yellow judging from her bright yellow robes and the huge yellow bow which held the iron grey hair back from her face. The only splash of other colour on her entire ensemble was a bright, almost too bright, blue apron which hung loosely around her wide hips. An enchanted miniature whale could be occasionally seen breeching the azure fabric and although Remus found the apron disconcerting he couldn't help but feel it fit in well with the feel of the small establishment. It was cosy with an air of whimsical magic to the place.

'How's me scones then lad?' she asked, slapping Remus firmly on the back causing him to wince slightly as he savoured the delicious sweet treat; the luxurious and thick cream pairing beautifully with the tart sweetness of the homemade strawberry jam.

'Wonderful. Thank you' he muttered as he took another satisfying bite. A small nagging voice in the back of Remus's head was desperately trying to remind him that taking advantage of this woman's generosity by eating her scones was not the gentlemanly thing to do but he was _so _hungry. He couldn't help but wonder if she would be so keen to touch him if she new what he really was, what prowled beneath his carefully constructed false persona...

'Does no one feed ya? Young strapping lad like you should be well fed!'

However, before he could answer the door of the cafe swung open, the tinkling of a bell announcing a new arrival. The woman that entered was petite, the black cloak she wore almost drowning her small frame, a cascade of dark brown hair surrounded a pretty face with wide dark eyes and pale full pink lips. Her eyes darted warily from side to side as she scanned the interior of the cosy room,

'Good morning Mrs Farthing, do you have the tarts?' she said whilst crossing the cafe floor, her heeled boots clicking against the bare wooden floor. Her voice was soft and raspy as if the Cornish sea air had slowly eroded away at something which had once sounded like chimes in the wind.

'Yes Meredith deary I'll just grab them for you they're in the back' the older witch replied, a small smile spreading across her lips as she disappeared behind the kitchen counter and in to the dark of the Rock Pool's inner chambers.

The woman, Meredith, stared at Remus from across the room with a look of wonder on her face, her pink lips forming an 'O' shape as a brown eyebrow arched in his direction. He couldn't help but notice the smattering of brown freckles which danced across her creamy skin and the faint white line of a scar which started near the small button nose and ended just before the swelling arch of her pale pink cupids bow. The big chocolate brown eyes which bored him were framed by thick dark brown lashes. The wolf that Remus had always tried to bury deep inside his mind unfurled itself from the shadows at the sight of the woman. _Prey_. The thought danced across his mind before he had chance to stop it sending a shudder down the wizard's skinny frame as the overwhelming sense of horror chased the warmth from his body. It was still another two weeks until the next Full Moon and the creature which dwelled inside him should have been dormant for at the very least a few days yet but here he was very much awake and present in Remus's mind albeit for a fleeting second.

**Authors note 2.0 – Yes I know it's an odd place to finish a chapter but roll with it and wait for Chapter 3 :D **


	3. Daddy Dearest

**Disclaimer – Still don't own anything.**

**Authors note – Hey guys its been a hot minute hasn't it? For everyone who followed/favourited/alerted Moonbroch many fanks. I am hella sorry I am such a sporadic writer but I have a lot of things on this wee plate of mine. Enjoy chapter 3! Also I've played around with canon so Lyall doesn't die until later in the series. **

'Dad? What are you doing here?'

The last person Remus had expected to see standing in the living room of the small cottage he was temporarily calling home was his father. Similar in stature to his son Lyall was not a big nor impressive-looking man but rather tall and slim with the same dark chocolate brown eyes as Remus. He too was sporting a similar knitted cardigan that the young werewolf treasured but this time in several lovely shades of marbled grey, the black trousers which hung loosely around his thin frame were covered in a pale sprinkling of beige coloured dust, and the large, white carrier bag which was dangling from between his fingers still slowly swayed with the momentum from the sudden apparition.

'Come to see me boy!' the older man replied in a typical attempt at a cheery fashion, a tinge of sadness in his voice betraying his true thoughts. Brown eyes lingering slightly too long on Remus's left shoulder.

The younger man shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, subconsciously running a hand over the knotted scarred skin on that particularly shoulder. It was a harsh reality that Lyall would forever blame himself for the predicament that his only child found himself in and all it had taken was a few poorly chosen words spoken at a poorly chosen time which had caused Remus's future to be forever marred by the shadow of a moon drunk monster. Remus could see the toll it had taken on his father in the flashes of iron-grey in his hair which had once been dark but was now more akin to the salt and pepper colour of his Herbology professors miniature schnauzer. The lines that were embedded the skin around his eyes told the story of a man who blamed himself over and over, the story of Remus's curse mapped out across his dad's face for the end of time. It had almost doubled in weight since the death of Hope early last year.

'I've got steaks as well' the older man said rustling the plastic bag in his hand for emphasis, taking the opportunity to break the awkward silence which had stretched out between the two Lupin boys.

Remus's stomach jumped at the thought, it had been a great many moons since he had been able to indulge in something as luxurious as a steak. The mere thought of tearing into a succulent and tender cut was enough to make him salivate – scones and steak in one day? He was a lucky pup. Most of the months since the war had ended had been spent scrounging from one day to the other picking up odd jobs way below his abilities just to get by. He had intended to go down to the local wizarding village tomorrow morning to apply for some of the more menial jobs which had been advertised in the local Cornish Wizarding paper. The remnants of said paper were scattered across the floor in no particular order having been torn apart whilst Remus's had searched for something, anything to keep himself going this month.

'Sounds great dad.'

It had been so long. So long since the heart and mouth-watering aroma of a perfectly cooked homemade steak meal had filled anywhere Remus had lived. The heady smell of meat clung to the curtains in the living room like a constant reminder of the delectable meal he was devouring, each bite was heavenly. A slice of normality in a world which had been cruel and harsh for so long. The silence now was no long awkward but rather content as the two men greedily ravaged their meals.

'Ya know – I spent my early days training down here. Studying them' Lyall said breaking the silence and lifting the fork in his hand to gesture at the seal painting which dominated the living room.

'Seals?'

'Nah don't be silly. Selkies. Protected species nowadays.'


End file.
